


Try This Trick and Spin It

by Lalalli



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: College AU, F/M, Fluff, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 17:51:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12776274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lalalli/pseuds/Lalalli
Summary: For the first two months of Jemma’s freshman year at university, she found Leopold Fitz to be abrasive. He snapped at their classmates when they made mistakes, walked around with a sullen frown on his face, and left rooms hastily without bothering to say goodbye to her.It turns out that he's actually a marshmallow.(SPOILERS FOR STRANGER THINGS 2)*Written for Fitzsimmons Appreciation Week 2017Day 1: Tender





	Try This Trick and Spin It

For the first two months of Jemma’s freshman year at university, she found Leopold Fitz to be abrasive. He snapped at their classmates when they made mistakes, walked around with a sullen frown on his face, and left rooms hastily without bothering to say goodbye to her.

And for the most part, she was okay with that. Just because they were lab partners, didn’t mean he had to like her. She just chalked it up to his personality. He seemed to be that way with everyone.

But then he walks in on her having a bit of a mental breakdown in the supply closet.

As soon as Fitz sees her, he stops in his tracks, ducking his head to look at her face, all uncertainty and genuine concern. “Simmons?”

Jemma hastily wipes the tears from her cheeks and takes a shuddering breath before lifting her chin to look at him. “Fitz!” Jemma exclaims, pasting a smile on her face and straightening her posture. From his expression, she knows that he can tell that her peppiness is strained. She braces herself for the inevitable comment about females being too emotional to work in the sciences (similar to the one that sent her to the closet to cry in the first place).

But instead, he takes a step closer to her and opens his arms, a silent offering, and Jemma unthinkingly steps inside.

She can’t help noticing that everything about him is soft: his sweater as she cries into it, his hands as they gently stroke over her hair, his voice as he murmurs reassurances and asks if she’s okay.

It doesn’t take long after that for Jemma to figure out that she had Fitz pegged all wrong. Despite his confidence (overconfidence) in the lab, he’s more unsure around people. He assumes that people won’t like him, so he prefers to give the impression that he’s too focused on his work to care what anyone thinks of him. (He’s successful 99% of the time.)

But once he and Jemma become friends, she discovers that Fitz is a _marshmallow_ , all shy smiles and boyish enthusiasm and casual affection. What was once a shared lab twice a week became lunch every day in the cafeteria, sitting side by side, their arms pressed together. It’s Inspector Spacetime marathons on Sundays in Fitz’s dorm room, Fitz’s head in Jemma’s lap as she scratches his scalp. It’s pool hustling at the Boiler Room, with drunken and sloppy kisses on cheeks and foreheads.

And it’s not that Fitz is her only friend. She has Bobbi, who’s a biochem major with Jemma and shares most of her classes, and Daisy, from whom Jemma bought her fake ID, and Hunter, who adopted Jemma as his little sister back when he and Bobbi were dating and continues to be an overprotective ass long after they’ve broken up.

It’s just that Fitz is her _favorite_ friend. No one else compares. Despite his outward surliness, Jemma has never met anyone more tender-hearted than he is.

So it’s stupid, really, that he doesn’t have more friends. Everyone should know how great Fitz is. He’s the best. And if they can’t figure it out on their own, then Jemma’s just going to have to help them. Starting with her own friends.

“Boiler Room tonight,” Jemma whispers as she slides into the seat next to him at their usual study table in the library.

Fitz looks up from his notebook. “Are you asking me or telling me?”

“Asking.”

Fitz slouches in relief. “Oh, good. No.”

Jemma wrinkles her nose. “Never mind. I’m telling you.”

Fitz scowls. “But why?”

Jemma nudges his shoulder with hers. “Because midterms are over and we deserve a break.”

Fitz gapes at her in awe. “I don’t think I ever expected to hear you say that we deserve a break.” He holds the back of his hand up to Jemma’s forehead. “Are you feeling alright?”

Jemma swats his hand away. “Shut up. I can be fun.”

Fitz bites back a smile. “Sure you can.”

“I can!” Jemma insists. “Case in point: Boiler Room. Tonight. We can blow off some steam. And Daisy and Bobbi are going to be there. Hunter too, probably.”

Fitz frowns. “You can go out with them if you want, you know. You don’t have to spend every Friday night with me.”

Jemma leans her head on Fitz’s shoulder. “I know I don’t have to, Fitz. I want to. I want to celebrate with all my friends, all at the same time. It’s more efficient that way.”

Fitz snorts. “Only you would plan the most efficient way to celebrate the end of midterms.”

Jemma shrugs. “That just means I’m the only one doing it right.”

In the end, Fitz accompanies Jemma to the Boiler Room after she agrees to binge-watch Stranger Things with him over the weekend. It’s crowded and hot when they arrive, sweat instantly clinging to their skin. Jemma grabs Fitz’s hand as they walk in under the pretense of dragging him along with her, though he comes willingly enough that it’s probably not necessary.

It’s also probably not necessary for him to sling his arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side as she introduces him to the others, but she’s not going to complain. She’s always a fan of cuddling with Fitz. She can see Daisy and Bobbi exchanging looks that she can’t read, but they don’t say anything until Fitz and Hunter leave to get a second round of drinks.

“Okay, I never want to hear you complain about your lack of love life again,” Daisy blurts in a rush, as if she’s been holding it in for entirely too long.

Jemma scrunches her nose. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Daisy lets out a forceful exhale, her breath blowing her bangs off her forehead. “Jem, you essentially already have a boyfriend.”

Jemma follows Daisy’s gaze to the bar where Fitz, looking adorably flustered, is trying and failing to flag down the bartender. “Who, Fitz?” Jemma asks in disbelief. “He doesn’t - we’re not - no. No. We’re just friends.”

Bobbi narrows her eyes at Jemma, her skepticism written all over her face. “The two of you engage in more PDA than I’ve ever shown with anyone I’ve ever dated.”

“This is the first time all night that the two of you have let go of each other,” Daisy points out.

Jemma blinks. “That doesn’t mean...I mean, that’s just how we are.”

“In love with each other?” Bobbi supplies.

“No! Just - he’s my best friend.”

“Look, you talk about him pretty much all the time, so this is what I’ve learned about the two of you.” Daisy starts ticking off her fingers. “You guys have dinner and a movie just about every night, which means that you’ve been on roughly 800 dates with him, you are physically incapable of not cuddling with him at all times, you look at each other with literal heart eyes -”

“That’s just ridiculous,” Jemma scoffs. “Eyes can’t literally be hearts. That’s physically impossible.”

“Fine, figurative heart eyes,” Daisy concedes, rolling her eyes. “Face it, Jemma. Fitz is basically your boyfriend. If you’re not making out too, that’s on you.”

“What’s on you?” Fitz asks, appearing seemingly out of nowhere. He sets down their drinks on the table and sits down next to Jemma, reaching around her waist and pulling her in again.

“Our drinks,” Bobbi says, bright. “She’s driving us to alcoholism.”

Fitz tilts his head to look down at Jemma, fond. “Are you talking about finals again? I knew you couldn’t take a break from thinking about school for too long.”

Jemma smiles weakly at him. “Yeah. School. That’s exactly what we were talking about.”

*

On the one hand, Jemma knows that she shouldn’t listen to Bobbi and Daisy. They just met Fitz. They haven’t seen them together before. They’ve never had a close male friend - not the way that she and Fitz are close.

On the other hand, once they mention the possibility of Jemma making out with Fitz, she can’t stop thinking about...well...making out with Fitz. She already knows the softness of his hair in her fingers, knows the warmth of his skin, the scent of his soap, the feel of his lips on her forehead, the scrape of his fingernails on her scalp.

But now she wants to know what it would feel like to have his tongue in her mouth, and there isn’t really a feasible way of just casually finding out.

Which is really unfortunate, because they’re watching tv and Jemma’s head is in Fitz’s lap and he’s softly stroking her hair off her forehead and tucking it behind her ear, and the tenderness of it all is driving her up the fucking wall.

Jemma scoffs in derision as Nancy and Jonathan just start kissing, because they’re apparently somehow magically capable of knowing that the other person wants them, too. Is anyone supposed to believe that 17-year-olds are that competent at relationships?

“What, you don’t ship it?” Fitz jokes. “I don’t blame you. Steve has better hair.”

Jemma rolls her eyes. “It’s just, they make it look so easy.”

“Kissing? I’m pretty sure it _is_ easy. Seems pretty self-explanatory to me.” His fingers just keep on combing through her hair, which for some reason just makes Jemma all the more frustrated.

Jemma groans and sits up. “Not the kissing. Just, the part where they acknowledge they want each other or love each other or whatever. It’s _never_ that easy.” 

Fitz studies Jemma’s face. “Are you alright?”

Jemma shakes her head, hoping to loosen her inappropriate thoughts from her brain. “I’m fine. Just ignore me.” She leans her back against Fitz’s pillows instead of returning to his lap.

“Because if something is bothering you, you can tell me,” Fitz presses. “I know you’d probably rather talk to Bobbi and Daisy about your crushes, but I’m always here to listen if you need me.”

“Yes, I know, Fitz,” Jemma sighs, unable to keep her irritation out of her voice. “Can we just watch the show?”

Fitz frowns. “Yeah. Sure.”

They’re both silent for a while, neither of them making any move to touch the other, until Fitz clears his throat. “It could be that easy, you know. For you, anyways.”

“What could?”

Fitz looks down at his hands, his fingers twisting in his lap. “Letting someone know you like them. I can’t imagine a world where someone wouldn’t want you back.”

It’s too much. It’s all too much. Before she can think much about it, Jemma surges forward and kisses Fitz, short and dry and brief.

Fitz gapes at her, unblinking, when she pulls back. “Jem.”

Jemma licks her lips, uncertain. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Fitz repeats, incredulous and confused.

“Do you want me back?”

Fitz lets out a laugh, disbelieving. He reaches out, softly tucking a strand of Jemma’s hair behind her ear before leaning in to press his lips against hers. It’s nicer this time, now that she’s not stressed about it. They take their time, trading soft, sweet kisses, and it’s new and familiar all at once.

“See?” Fitz smiles at Jemma when he pulls away. “Easy peasy.”

“Yeah,” Jemma agrees, leaning back in. “Easy peasy.”

 

 


End file.
